


A Flicker

by Anonymous



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Consensual, F/F, Futanari, Girl Penis, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Verse, Team Bond, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-12 01:55:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15985118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hana goes into heat during a mission, and being behind enemy's lines requires everyone's aid.





	A Flicker

**Author's Note:**

> A very late fill for a prompt from the femslash-kink meme: [Overwatch: D.Va/Any, Alpha/Omega-verse, O!Hana goes into heat and gets fucked by an Alpha, any consent level](https://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/21553.html?thread=2996273)
> 
> I meant this to be Widowmaker/D.va, but then it became Widowmaker/Mercy, and sort of ended being Widowmaker-centric. Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Other pairings: Pharah/D.va, Zarya/D.va, Angela/Ana (very subtle mention), and Widowmaker/Sombra. Also a past poly relationship: Ana/Mercy/Amélie, a V-shaped relationship.
> 
> Both code names and real names are used here, I tried my best to not make it confusing.

 

There are a few scenes that Widowmaker expects to see upon entering the safe house after barely finishing a mission.

D.va sprawled on the examination bed with Pharah's cock buried deep in her pussy and the head of Zarya's being enclosed by her lips certainly is not one of them.

  
Widowmaker stands at the entrance to the tiny treatment room, bewildered and completely unprepared for the thick, delicious scent of an Omega in heat to engulf her.

The air in the room is heavy with it, easily overshadowing the two Alphas' scent.

Widowmaker parts her lips in shock as a tickling, warm sensation seeps into her body without her control. It lingers under skin like an itch that soon will torture her, it faintly thrums in her veins like a prolonged heartbeat that soon will coil in the pit of her stomach, then warmly; achingly settle in her groin.

  
Pharah seems to be far gone in the Omega's nimble body to be aware of her presence, while Zarya glances at her only once before returning her focus on D.va.

She's stroking her cheek, whispering gently. "You're doing great, Hana."

Her words coax more muffled whimpers from the young pilot, who is naked and drenched in sweat, and whose eyes are closed in a way that's telling of how much at ease she was. How much satisfaction she was getting.

"Hm, good girl," Zarya says before pushing her cock all the way to the hilt into D.va's mouth, into her throat. She stays there momentarily, then pulls back again.

D.va whines, looking at her adorably.

Zarya chuckles. "Just helping out Amari," she tells her, raising her gaze to the other alpha. "You know she gets worked up easily when it comes to you."

Pharah snarls, thrusting her hips harder, deeper that it seems she can't let go of any inch of D.va's pussy.

The sudden change in pace makes D.va release Zarya's cock with a loud pop and lie back, moaning and arching her back in a pure rapture. A tremor seems to have seized her body as her come spills all over the place every time Pharah pulls out.

"Unlike you, I make sure she comes enough times before I knot her." Pharah comments in a taut voice, coming to a halt and leaning over D.va.

D.va clings to her— face flushed, eyes tearful.

Something in Widowmaker's stomach twists pleasurably at the sight.

Then Mercy suddenly cuts in, standing beside Widowmaker at the entrance. _Has she really been frozen in her spot all this while?_

"Can the two of you stop bickering over her? You can't help it, I know, but please try. The last thing we need right now is for your ego to be hurt."

Widowmaker watches Mercy — _Angela,_ Widowmaker reminds herself. Angela. She knows her.

The doctor nods at Widowmaker to follow her to the other side of the small shelter.

_"You're being mean."_

Widowmaker hears D.va saying, hears the pout in her voice.

She takes one last glance before walking, and sees Pharah capturing D.va's jutted lip with her teeth while the other Alpha pats her head lovingly, her other hand leisurely stroking her cock. "We love you so much, you know that, right?" Pharah whispers. "We'll keep you safe and you will get through this easily."

 _Their bond is evident even in such a moment,_ Widowmaker thinks absently.

 

The place is fairly small, an apartment in the bustling side of the city where their enemy won't suspect them to be.

Widowmaker thinks she should have risked heading for the extraction point right away instead of going into hiding where a main division Omega is trapped in the thorns of her heat.

She can feel that she herself has already been coated by the scent, layer over layer, clinging to her skin and clothes, every breath she takes isn't enough to fulfill her with D.va's scent.

Widowmkaer lay her eyes on Angela. She's flushed, bruised, and probably in a desperate need for rest, but she stands just fine.

 _She definitely should have headed for the extraction point directly,_ Widowmaker concludes as Pharah's resolve to fuck D.va thoroughly becomes clear in her groans and in her loud thrusts.

If the thought had crossed her mind before, Widowmaker would have expected Ana's daughter to be more composed against an Omega's heat considering they're still behind the enemy's lines. But then again, her cock twitches, hardens, and she has been the one who undergone a drastic transformation in order to not feel anything.

"Everyone is accounted for, including the deceased. Mei and Gabe are picking us up soon, two hours maximum." Angela begins informing her. "We just have to wait here until Andros' patrols finish scanning the area. Oh, and all of Blackwatch agents made it out in case you were wondering."

Angela pauses, perhaps anticipating her reply.

_Widowmaker hasn't been wondering about her fellow agents._

The moment turns a little odd, however, because the silence is filled with wanton interactions. Angela ends it, almost suddenly. "Hana's suppressant malfunctioned during the drones attack. In case you were wondering," she says. "Thankfully, Alex got her out before her heat fully broke."

That sparks something in Widowmaker's mind. Overwatch has protocol for this: In cases of an unexpected heat or rut occurring, any agent present and affected has to mate with the distressed agent until they are safely back at HQ.

It's a reasonable protocol, one Widowmaker doesn't want to follow while being with her former lover.

"I see," Widowmaker finally answers.

Widowmaker notes Angela's scent in the air. It's as sweet as D.va's, but not quite as strong or provoking.

Perhaps it's a little unsettled, as well, Widowmaker guesses in an afterthought when she tastes it on her tongue. It's familiar, and it should be enough to prevent D.va's scent from affecting her, but as though Angela had never been hers, Amélie's, it does nothing to Widowmaker.

"Are you all right?" Widowmaker asks, eyes darting to the obvious bruise on Angela's temple. It's supposed to be healed by now, but it isn't, which means it must have been bad. Half of her battlesuit is ruined, blood dried on it and on her hair.

"Yes, are you?" Angela then nears her. She studies Widowmaker with attentive eyes, and furrowed brow. Widowmaker remembers that look so clearly.

Angela immediately finds the tearing on the black coat of her suit.

"You're bleeding."

Widowmaker looks down at her waist where she scraped herself while chasing her target, which she caught with her bullet easily. Her white shirt is stained with blood, but not in the way it should if she was a normal human.

The wound is grave, though, the blood loss isn't.

"It's really bad," Angela says, then holds her arm firmly and attempts to walk them back to the treatment room. "Come on."

But Widowmaker does not move, and when Angela's eyes meet hers with confusion, she nods her head at the room.

"It's all right, I'm sure they won't be bothered by our presence."

"That's not it," Widowmaker replies calmly, fully aware of what's about to happen.

"No?" Angela is puzzled. "Then— that... should not affect you, right?" Angela asks, looking down at Widowmaker's crotch once realization hits her.

"It shouldn't, but it does." Widowmaker answers honestly, noticing the surprise in Angela's eyes upon spotting the bulge in her trousers. "If our extraction is going to take some time, the more of us poised the better. I should stay far from the Omega while I still can."

"H— How?"

Angela immediately has all sort of emotions swirling in the depth of her eyes, sheer and wild, but one, certain gleam in those blue irises is familiar enough for Widowmaker to feel something.

A pang in her heart.

_Angela should not have a false hope._

"I regained full sensation once Talon's medication dissolved. Sombra's heat triggered it." Widowmaker informs her without a hitch in her expression or voice.

And it might be the haze thickening in her mind due to the continuous flow of D.va's scent, due to the image of her wet, dripping pussy and the image of her mouth eagerly sucking the Alpha's cock that have been imprinted in her mind, but Widowmaker can swear that the calm rhythm of her heartbeats faltered upon seeing the hurt in Angela's expressions.

"You didn't tell me about this. You didn't tell _us_." Angela speaks in a low voice, in shock. Her widened eyes are searching hers for an answer, for anything.

"It does not mean what you think it means."

"Of course, it does, Am—" Angela stops herself before calling her name, she squeezes her eyes shut for a second. "Of course, it fucking does!" She hisses, raising her hand to massage her forehead.

Widowmaker feels her heart tremble once. Just once. A desire to soothe Angela's temple where it's faintly purple belatedly flickering inside of her, then fading.

"Was it just a slight erection or full? Were you able to release? Did anything feel different when you were around her? Nerve endings responding to simulation?" Angela asks, suddenly serious like she's onto something. "If you are able to feel again, that's a good sign. We might try new methods to reverse what Talon have done, we might be able to fix—"

"I fucked her." Widowmaker answers, cold and emotionless because Angela needs to drop the matter. "Knotted her several times. I felt everything, physically." She holds Angela's eyes, and meets the hurt in them with something cruel.

It's only the right thing to do.

Angela is silent then, and this time, despite the brute noises in the treatment room, the silence does not turn awkward. It's heavy with ache now, the sadness lodged in the space between her and Angela rising to their attention.

"Doctor O'Deorain thinks Talon must have thought the reconditioning would deal with everything. It didn't, not entirely. Only my pheromones are fully gone."

Angela glares at her. "You told Moira but not me?!"

Widowmaker merely stares at her. _Who else was she supposed to tell? Moira is Blackwatch's head of doctors._

"When did it first occur?" Angela demands angrily.

"Nine months after I left Talon."

Angela inhales deeply through her nose, lips pursed into thin line.

_It's been over three years since she left Talon._

Angela seems to be wanting to say more, Widowmaker knows her. She knows that her old mate is hurt by the secret she hasn't planned on revealing. Ever.

"Have you had your rut?"

Widowmaker contemplates whether to tell her or not. It will only complicate things, but dragging this matter can't be a good thing, either.

"Yes," Widowmaker replies, sensing the simmering storm she's about to unleash. "When I wanted it."

"When you—" Angela begins, her rage bubbling just below the surface from the looks of it. "So you can still function properly like any other Alpha, still feel something— something real, something fundamental, but you didn't feel the need to share that information with your mates!"

There are tears pooling in Angela's eyes, the sight of them does not poke at Widowmaker's calmed heart.

It might later.

Widowmaker sighs. Now that she was out of Andros' troops' reach, supposedly out of danger, she starts to feel twinges in her side. They're subtle when they should be searing, torturous.

"There hasn't been a reason to inform either of you of that, Angela." She answers, taking off her jacket and heading for the chair. "You won't get her back. Ana won't get her back."

The real her, the person she was, the person Angela loved and knew. Amélie.

She's a relic beneath Widowmaker now.

_Angela won't get her back._

  
Eventually, Angela resigns to a simple order, her voice bearing her formal tone. "We will talk about this later."

  
Widowmaker watches her head for the treatment room, more of her focus slipping her grasp to allow lust to settle.

  
A lifetime ago, she would have died before letting Angela walk away upset and aching because of her.

Now, she only feels her pulse quicken, blood rushing steadily that it burns.

D.va's mewls get to her again. The girl isn't her type, much younger than her type, but she is in heat and Widowmaker wants to bury her cock in her pussy, wants to knot her and fill her with her come until her belly swells.

 

With Angela's hands being busy patching her up, Widowmaker finds it easy to distract herself from listening to Ana's daughter grunting while she knots the Omega, whose moans were muffled again. But ignoring the pink-haired Alpha's endless praise about how D.va was taking both of them so well is becoming arduous.

She's fully hard now, cock straining against the fabric of her trousers right in the face of her former lover.

It should feel embarrassing. Angela is quiet and angry as she treated her wound, and the sensation burning and twisting in her gut should be embarrassment and shame. Not lust.

But it is lust, and Widowmaker feels need when she shouldn't be feeling anything at all.

She feels the desire to have the Omega's eager mouth sealed around her cock. She feels the desire to have the warm walls of her needy pussy pull her in so deep, to squeeze her knot so good.

It's her primal nature. Talon have taken everything from except that.

They haven't even left her the sorry that she should feel upon having her lover witness her being hard for someone other than her.

  
Widowmaker eyes Angela. _She's furious,_ Widowmaker recognizes the subtle frown Angela isn't aware of, and she thinks she should say something. Out of respect.

But anything she'll says, will be deafeningly empty of emotions.

Angela won't miss that.

So Widowmaker remains silent.

  
D.va's whimpers draw her attention again. There is panting, too.

 _"You feel so good, Hana,"_ Pharah let out. She sounds breathless, groans of her own trailing every word. _"You're doing so well, so well. I'm proud of you, Hana. You got this, just a little more. Get Alex to come, too."_

Widowmaker notices that Zarya has resigned to soft, quiet murmurs in her mother tongue now. Something in her voice is loud and clear, however. An undercurrent of desperation.

  
Widowmaker relaxes back on the chair, a desire to see D.va being knotted, to see her spilling those moans, soars within her.

_She relaxes when she didn't even realize she had gone tensed in the first place._

"You can go to her, you know that, right?" Angela says in a flat voice that helplessly resembles the very place they're hiding at. Empty and unfamiliar. "We can't leave while you're like this."

Widowmaker does not blame her, and does not pretend like she isn't in need to hold her throbbing cock. If only to ease the increasing hunger within her.

"I'm sure she would rather be with Alphas she knows."

Angela meets her eyes. "If you're affected by her heat, you need to take care of it with her before you affect someone else. That's the protocol." She focuses on her wound again. "Do you think Fareeha is there just to enjoy herself? She tried to take care of it with what suppressants we have here, then alone in the bathroom when they didn't work, just to spare Hana the outcome of her heat, but that as well did not work."

"I won't affect anyone," Widowmaker replies calmly. "It's different now."

"Well, I wouldn't know because you didn't tell me." Angela snaps, her fingers pressing harder on Widowmaker's flesh all of a sudden.

She realizes it quick and removes her hands.

Widowmaker hates that Angela found out about her capability to mate like this, especially considering the fact that she welcomed her into her arms with no regard to what Widowmaker had lost. Be it her Alpha's pheromones and potency, or her humanity.

It's a faint feeling, but Widowmaker knows it's a tremendous one if she felt it already.

"Even if you don't have pheromones to attract Omegas, you are affected, and obviously you won't be able to endure being with Hana without doing anything on the way home."

Widowmaker hears accusation in her words. Or it feels like it because not long ago, she was the enemy.

It upsets her that Angela thought of it.

"Is that what you think of me? That I'd hurt her? Force her?"

"That's—" Angela raises her gaze then, and she's shocked. "That's no what I meant."

Widowmaker glances at her wound and decides that it's taken care of enough for now. She gets up, Angela flinches, but quickly regains her composure.

She prevents Widowmaker from moving further. "Hey, you don't get to act like this after keeping things from me."

Widowmaker furrows her brows, meets Angela's glare with a similar look in her eyes.

"You could never harm any Omega like that, I know you," Angela says, a ghost of softness resonating from her.

"You knew her, not me."

Angela clenches her jaw.

"Both of you agreed to the protocol, and it gives both of you the right to follow your instincts. So what I _meant_... was that it'd be too much for you to handle when you know you're allowed to mate with Hana."

Widowmaker realizes that she has acted foolishly. And it isn't so strange with how unfamiliar she has become with feelings, and right now, a whirl of them mixes with her primal needs and rushes through her endlessly.

Widowmaker lets the annoyance fade from her eyes.

"I can handle it. I will."

"You won't," Angela tells her quietly. "Because if you could, if you could resist Omegas' raging pheromones during heats, you wouldn't have fucked Sombra." Her eyes and cheeks flare red, and this time Widowmaker not only sees her anger, and held back sorrows, but she feels them piercing her heart like one of Talon's fine needles before it melts into nothingness in a matter of seconds.

"You wouldn't have fucked any Omega after me, Amélie."

That is true. Amélie wouldn't have fucked or loved anyone else if she was still alive. Widowmaker remembers the passion, the promise Amélie made Angela while Ana watched with a loving, serene look on her face. _I'm yours forever._

Widowmaker remembers all of that because Talon have not taken away the memories, and all memories do is pouring feelings into one's soul.

And though Widowmaker can't feel these feelings the way she should, she knows that years ago, wanting Angela had felt like being at home, safe and assured and fulfilled.

"I thought you said we'll talk about it later," Widowmaker says. They can't be arguing about this right now, they can't afford that.

Angela shakes her head, collecting the tools and gauze. "Four times," she whispers absently as if she was thinking to herself. "Overwatch and Blackwatch had four mission together that coincided with my heat. You didn't join in any of them even though you were needed. Even though you surely must know how careful I am about taking my blockers."

Widowmaker doesn't know how to reply that. Suddenly neither their fellow agents' noise nor the calm hum of passing vehicles outside register in her mind.

She did miss those missions on purpose. For the exact same reason Angela was pointing at, but that had been a logical decision. She couldn't let Angela hope that Amélie was still alive just because Widowmaker would want to fuck her.

"The person you are looking for is dead, Angela."

"Or maybe she doesn't want to come back." Angela replies sharply before heading for the bathroom.

 

  
Widowmaker keeps herself occupied, _distracted_ , by thoroughly checking her rifle. That's until soft laughter draws her attention to the treatment room.

Zarya is heading her way, specifically to the counter where their weapons have been laid.

Sweat glimmers on her skin, genuine rest and delight drawn to her features as though they weren't in danger still.

She is unbothered by her messy hair and the noticeable bulge in her pants, but there is something about her that makes Widowmaker's resolve about not fucking the Omega falter.

D.va's scent is all over her. It's fully covering the Alpha's own.

Zarya nods at her in a manner of greeting, and starts working on her weapon.

Widowmaker returns her focus on the Omega again. Pharah's lying on the table now, with D.va resting on top of her. They're still tied, come visible on their thighs.

The young pilot is laying her head on Pharah's shoulder, shuddering every other second as Angela works on a wound on her arm, while Pharah's hands massage her back and hips soothingly, clearly exhausted herself.

  
Widowmaker's cock twitches more than once in response, and she knows that this time she won't be able to ignore it much further.

  
Then she catches the spike of bitter pheromones, the scent of an agitated Alpha.

Widowmaker finds Zarya watching her, eyebrows knitted together, muscles tensed.

After a second of glaring, Zarya's eyes dart momentarily to her crotch.

"You have been healed?" She asks flatly.

Widowmaker clenches her jaw. She doesn't care what other Alphas think of her, but does she have to deal with everything all at once?

"I was never impotent."

It's the truth. She might not smell or act like an Alpha anymore, but she still can rut like one. They simply couldn't have known that, including her, while Talon's drugs were still fixed in her system during the several examinations Overwatch had performed.

Zarya leans forward a little, inhaling deeply.

The gesture makes Widowmaker growl in warning.

Her emotion-based reactions are becoming immediate now because of her arousal. They're slipping her grasp before she can handle them with reason.

"Are you sure?" Zarya locks eyes with her, a dark shimmer of loathsomeness radiating from her gaze.

Widowmaker raises her chin in confidence, and it's odd. A sensation shred-like settles uncomfortably in every corner of her mind, in her muscles and bones.

It's distant, ghostly, but it is there.

Rage.

  
Widowmaker understands Zarya's feelings, especially with D.va's pheromones clouding her mind, but still, something in her prompts her to show her demand for respect, to assert her domination because Zarya certainly is no match for her.

  
But then D.va's sobbing reaches them, interrupting the silent challenge that Zarya seems willing to start.

"It still hurts so bad." D.va is still in Pharah's arms, face buried in her neck. She's practically clinging to the Alpha as she rubs her herself on her taut stomach.

Then she gets to her feet. She looks barely able to let go of Pharah.

Widowmaker spots come shining on her thighs, trailing down...

The thought of that being her own come flooding the Omega's pussy sinks into her core like a heavy ball of fire, ready to burst.

"Hana, you haven't had your last two heats because of your packed schedule. It'll take a while before the thick of it is bearable." Angela exits the room, the gentleness in her voice makes something twist so slowly within Widowmaker's heart that it's almost agonizing.

  
"We need you to mate with Hana." Angela announces in a steady voice.

Zarya scoffs. "We do not. Hana does not."

Widowmaker sees defiance shining in the young Alpha's eyes.

"Alex, please." Angela says tiredly, "Hana is our number one priority right now. You have to secure your weapon and Fareeha has two fractured ribs and a burned shoulder that need to be treated right now."

She's holding Zarya's arm, but still directed her words to the two of them. A sense of authority lodged perfectly in her voice.

Widowmaker's lips quiver in a smile, a remnant of the past, of Angela preventing her from quarreling with Ana like petulant pups flashes in her mind.

 

She knows what the doctor is doing, caressing Zarya's skin with her thumb like that while a gush of her sweet Omega pheromones fills their nostrils.

It works on the pink-haired Alpha like magic. Like a well-created drug.

In a second, Zarya has calmed down.

  
At that moment, the pilot strolls out of the room, completely unbothered by her nudity and the come sticking to her flesh, and heads for the bathroom. Her buttocks jiggle, the movement sends sparks along Widowmaker's spine that she has to blink to regain focus.

She finds Zarya staring at her with a pointed look. "Do you promise to be gentle with her?"

Widowmaker fleetingly raises her eyebrows in shock.

She hasn't expected Zarya to yield so quickly.

"I will kill you if you hurt her, _Spider_ ," she adds with spite, serious as though it was merely an undeniable fact.

Widowmaker bares her teeth in a smile then, amused by Zarya's threat, but she catches Angela fixing her eyes on her, and they are full of warning.

So perhaps Angela does know her. Perhaps the person Widowmaker replaced is not just a memory in Widowmaker's mind, but the very essence that's keeping her on track. That's fueling her to hunt down those who harmed her, who harmed them.

Eventually, Widowmaker doesn't attempt to provoke the other Alpha. They need to be behaved for the sake of their safety.

She nods once in answer.

Zarya only looks at her more incredulously before turning to Angela. "I will finish locking up."

"Thank you, Alex," Angela replies, stroking the Alpha's arm one last time then returning to the treatment room.

She casts not one glance toward Widowmaker.

 

Widowmaker is rigid when D.va finally comes out of the bathroom. She's in need, and it starts to feel ridiculously unsettling with the emotions and desires she is no longer used to feeling searing through her.

She starts to feel like she's being ridiculous.

D.va doesn't notice her, clearly taken by the Alpha's pheromones. She's red all over, there are marks on her body and obvious bruises and scratches that Widowmaker can't decide they happened because of their mission or because of hungry mouths and rough hands.

The Omega hugs Zarya, burying her face in her.

Zarya smiles. "Amari's knot was not enough, hm?" She asks without pausing her work.

"Hey!" Pharah shouts weakly, to which, Angela hisses. "Stay still."

D.va murmurs something that Widowmaker can't hear, hips moving against the Alpha's thigh, and it's too much to handle.

  
"D.va," Widowmaker calls. She finds the code name strange on her tongue. "Come here."

D.va flinches quietly, and gapes at her.

Uncontrollably, Widowmaker pins her down with her gaze and she blushes in response, her readiness to submit sheer in the way she shifts and lowers her head.

"It is all right, go," Zarya then says, and D.va looks up at her, confused. The Alpha only reassures her. "She will take care of you until I finish securing our weapons."

_She's being bold._

"You assume she would want either of you after she takes my knot," Widowmaker counters calmly.

Zarya glares at her, and the Omega's throat bobs.

  
Instantly, her scent thickens in the air. It's numbing.

  
Zarya seems to know better than to defy Widowmaker's words this time, if only to not disturb the Omega while she's suffering from her heat.

Zarya wraps her arm around D.va's bare body to hug her shortly before moving her hand downward, to D.va's buttock, then further below and around the plump flesh to the spot Widowmaker desperately desires.

D.va gasps, head drooping forward as Zarya inserts her fingers into her pussy far enough for the Omega to stand on her toes, squirming.

Zarya kisses the top of her head. "Go on, I will be right here."

  
Widowmaker feels rage bubble in her chest. And something more.

Jealousy, perhaps. Possession.

She knows they're fully provoked by the fact that Zarya already has the Omega's trust, and that she shares a bond with her when Widowmaker doesn't. But knowing is enough to make them fade. (Widowmaker recalls that Amélie had found these feelings pathetic and so she never felt them. But then she fell for Angela, needed to be with Angela, and Angela needed her and Ana.)

  
D.va is hesitant as she stands before her. Widowmaker watches her attentively until her scent captures her into the sweetest of clouds. Her heart beat a little faster— it's still much slower than everyone else, but for her, it's fast, blood pumping wildly through her veins.

  
Then Angela appears in her head again, and Widowmaker falters. She looks at the treatment room, and so does D.va.

Even though she doesn't feel the aching sorrows, Widowmaker knows that the way things have unfolded matters enough it'll loom over this, this urgent mating heavily.

"We're leaving in less than two hours. Do you want to try and hold on?" Widowmaker asks calmly, locking eyes with D.va.

D.va entwines her fingers together, shaking her head right away.

"It hurts," D.va whispers nervously, reaching her hand down. "It hurts down here."

Widowmaker burns with the need to touch her upon hearing that.

Then D.va's eyes dart downward to Widowmaker's groin, and the gasp she lets out is almost enough for the Alpha to get up and lay D.va on the table to have her way with her.

She doesn't, however, for a reason she doesn't know how to admit, she doesn't want to fully succumb to her lust, to her nature. She only seethes with scorching desire as she schools her reaction.

And it seems that D.va shares the same sentiment.

"But what about Doc?" D.va asks, eyes already darkened with hunger.

_Angela._

Widowmaker doesn't know how to answer that, either, but she suspects that D.va must have an idea of the history between her and Angela, and... well, what Talon have done to her body.

"What about her?" She tries to answer and it sounds wrong even though Widowmaker doesn't care, doesn't feel the compassion that Amélie would have been feeling.

D.va bites her lip, looking at the room again. Her worries are clear, but her need is greater than them and it shows. It shines between her legs, drips, and the way she's trying her best to not rub her thighs together is telling.

"Protocol says we should get on with it," Widowmaker says then, and D.va jumps slightly, so she softens her voice, or attempts to. "She knows we have to do this."

"Right!" The Omega rushes to agree in a breathy whisper. "Of course."

She's flushed now, looking at Widowmaker's cock again.

She fidgets, obviously not knowing what to do without Widowmaker's Alpha scent to block her self-consciousness, to blur boundaries and friendship ties, and drive her into taking what she needs from Widowmaker without shame or guilt.

And if Widowmaker were to be honest, she doesn't know how to approach this, either.

  
With Sombra, it has been causal. When she gets her heat, she will enter her private quarters through any mean and mount her hardening cock easily as though they had known each other for a long time. (Well, in a way, Sombra does know her very well. For personal benefit reasons.)

  
"It's all right," Widowmaker says all of a sudden, somewhat wanting to reassure D.va. "We will take it as you want it."

And she must have done it right because D.va's scent washes her in a heavy wave.

Widowmaker closes her eyes briefly before standing, no longer able to stay _this_ far from D.va's body.

D.va whimpers, a low sound stuck in her throat as she cranes her neck up to look at her. Her legs tense when Widowmaker gets behind her and guides her to lean on the table— she shudders and her breathing quickens.

  
Her skin is burning, Widowmaker finds when she finally touches her, its heat seeps into Widowmaker through her palms.

 

A whiff of Alpha pheromones, sharp and bland and agitated, reaches Widowmaker.

  
Widowmaker looks at Zarya as she presses her body into D.va's. She's still focusing on her work, but she meets her eyes in a fleeting glance.

Widowmaker smirks, sensing how much the other Alpha hates that she's fucking their Omega.

  
D.va tries her best to stay still, but as Widowmaker unzips her trousers and finally, _finally_  frees her cock, she uncontrollably bucks her hips against Widowmaker.

She moans instantly and Widowmaker shudders upon feeling the hot wetness.

Widowmaker is dazed by D.va's scent, she leans over the Omega to inhale it deeply as her natural desire that makes her want to fuck D.va and fill her with her come consumes her after having simmered leisurely for the past hour or so.

  
D.va is trembling nonstop now, her hands fixed on the table. She's unable to stop rubbing her folds on Widowmaker's length even though she's barely getting any friction with that angle.

The Alpha lets her do that. She will need her cock to be as lubed as possible.

But D.va is far more worked up by her heat than what Widowmaker thinks. When she pins the Omega a little more, D.va turns and finds her eyes. A silent plea is shining in them, as she presses her pussy on Widowmaker to get any amount of pleasure she can get.

It makes the sensation too much.

It makes _feeling_ too much.

  
Widowmaker grasps her cock then, and pushes it into D.va's pussy without warning. All the while, her eyes were holding D.va's until the young Omega couldn't keep hers open.

  
Widowmaker pushes her length all the way to the hilt with intent, or attempts to because D.va's sweet, velvetly walls are stubborn.

  
D.va gasps, whimpers. Widowmaker clenches her hands on her hips, firm fingers digging into heated flesh. She pulls back to thrust again, and repeats that again and again until her cock is fully sheathed.

Widowmaker's hips jerk unsteadily upon that, her eyelids flutter closed as everything in her is set ablaze.

  
_That's what being alive feels like now._

  
D.va's walls ripple around her, still adjusting to her girth in the most fulfilling way that Widowmaker bends over her roughly.

The position is definitely uncomfortable, if D.va's feeble whimpers were any indication. Widowmaker decides to change it before knotting, but for now, she selfishly starts moving her hips slowly. Just to satiate her hunger until D.va is comfortable with the stretch.

  
D.va moans again, her warmth feels like it's dampening Widowmaker's clothes— it feels like it's sticking to her cold skin, to her nerve endings that have been altered by Talon.

But then D.va whispers, trying her best to rock her hips. "Please." Her wetness smears Widowmaker's clothes. "Faster."

Widowmaker turns to see D.va's face, surprised.

D.va meets her eyes, she's sweating and her lips are trembling, but now her desperation tugs at Widowmaker's heart.

Without her scent that can soak the Omega with ease and fulfillment until she's knotted, until she's filled to the brim with Widowmaker's come, all she has to aid her with is her cock.

D.va nears her face hesitantly then kisses the corner of her mouth. " _Unnie_ , please fuck me faster. Harder."

Widowmaker's languid pace falters shakily, sharply and she has to tighten her grip on the Omega to steady herself. She lodges her cock deep and stays there, purring without her notice.

She vaguely remembers what the term means, she only remembers so clearly the few times D.va used it to call her fellow agents when they attempted to do foolish maneuvers and she desperately wanted to stop them.

Widowmaker pulls back and thrusts again, and it's strong, almost rough.

D.va cries in response as Widowmaker shapes her pace into an unforgiving one.

 

  
D.va groans after each pass before her mouth hangs opne.

The Alpha adjusts her position, placing her arm under D.va's face so that she can hold most of her weight off of her, and she gets her other hand around D.va' hip to touch her clit.

D.va arches in her arms when she touches her clit, keening unabashedly that the whole place suddenly feels as though it was empty of everyone but the two of them.

Widowmaker brushes her clit again, teasingly. And it proves to be just the right amount of pressure because D.va bites her forearm as her orgasm hits her, her pussy tightens around Widowmaker's cock even more.

Widowmaker curses, pressing down harder.

The pain is faint, almost nonexistent with the lust burning her so earnestly, but the action itself, the wetness, the desperation in the way D.va mewls and digs her teeth harder, the sound vibrating through Widowmaker's arm.

It's all enough for Widowmaker's knot to swell far sooner than usual.

Widowmaker swallows thickly. Logically, she should knot her already as her knot always lasts long, and that should keep the Omega full for a while.

But selfishly, she wants to keep driving her cock into D.va until she's fully sated.

Widowmaker nuzzles at D.va, almost hugs her.  _She shouldn't enjoy this._

 

Widowmaker presses hard on D.va's clit to work out the aftershocks. She gets squeezes from her pussy, and they feel so good that Widowmaker doesn't have the heart to change anything about their position, but once D.va lets go of her arm, Widowmaker begins another pace. This time a slower one, gentler.

D.va breathes heavily, whimpers escaping her mouth as Widowmaker caresses her hip, then her buttock before pulling out carefully.

  
D.va slumps on the table, whining and shuddering as her come leaks down her thighs.

For a moment, Widowmaker wants to push her cock right where it belongs, but instead clears the haze from her mind, and easily adjusts the Omega's position.

  
"Is it better like this?" Widowmaker asks as she settles between her legs.

She has meant to look at her eyes, but the sight of her dripping pussy demands Widowmaker's full attention.

The flesh is dark pink and swollen just right, her clit is a tempting bud peeking out of its hood and Widowmaker desires to lap at it with her tongue.

D.va's scent lingers on her tongue now, but it isn't enough when she can just reach down and have an actual taste.

D.va finally gets the strength to answer, she nods, locking her legs around Widowmaker.

She pulls her in, and doing that gets her close to what she wants: Widowmaker's cock.

She starts rubbing herself on it again. She seems unable to keep her eyes open, and when she can, they're hooded and distracting.

Widowmaker feels her climax building. And it's weakening, lulling that she leans over D.va.

 _She can enjoy this,_ she thinks again, she can accept this lust, and she wants to.

  
D.va welcomes her weight with shaky hands. She touches her shoulders, her chest and neck, and Widowmaker tenses. She registers the soft thuds and clicks of Zarya's work, and Angela and Pharah's quiet voices. But D.va is relentless at keeping her fully focused on her.

"I thought your skin would be much colder," D.va whispers.

It _is_ much colder, Widowmaker wants to say, when lust isn't wrecking havoc to what Talon have done.

Widowmaker merely hums, a smile of delight making its way to her lips. The Omega usually spoke her mind freely with confidence, but she never stepped out of line from what Widowmaker has noticed.

And right now, her genuine curiosity is far from rudeness.

"Did it hurt? Wha— what they did to you?" D.va asks while rocking her hips persistently. Every time the pass of Widowmaker's cock against her clit was lighter than she likes, she writhed and squeezed the Alpha into her.

Widowmaker clears her throat, preventing the moans of satisfaction from choking her. She spots her folded coat from the corner of her eye and before she can analyze it, she fetches it and places it under D.va's lower back.

 _She's being gentle with the Omega._  Something essential within her drives her to be like that. Widowmaker realizes that, but not the fact that she has already forgotten about Zarya's threat.

"Yes," Widowmaker answers calmly, aligning the tip of her cock against D.va's pussy.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," D.va says in a soft voice, unmistakable sincerity echoing from it as though she didn't greedily begin pushing onto Widowmaker to get her cock inside.

Widowmaker stills, peering down at her. Unintentionally forbidding her her cock, which only garners her adorable whines from D.va.

There is warmth wrapping around her heart now, it's fleeing but Widowmaker feels it.

"Thank you, D.va," she replies, thoroughly enjoying the Omega's unsubtle attempts to get her inside. "Thank you," she repeats again because she means it and she wants the Omega to know that.

"Hana. You can call me Ha—" D.va begins, but at that moment, Angela comes of out of the treatment room and pauses upon noticing them.

Both of them look at her, D.va evidently tenses under her, fingers clutching at the fabric of her shirt. And at the same time, she succeeds at stopping her hips from jerking— from rubbing herself against Widowmaker's length once, and fails twice.

Angela doesn't say anything when she meets Widowmaker's eyes briefly. She doesn't even look angry, and that Widowmaker knows for sure is for the sake of the young Omega.

Angela heads toward Zarya. "Fareeha is resting. I'll help you pack her suit." She speaks quietly, and Zarya matches her tone. "She is all right?"

  
Widowmaker returns her focus back on D.va.

_Hana._

She's nervous now, the furrow on her brows is sharply drawn as she glances back and forth between her and Angela.

"Look at me," Widowmaker orders quietly, and when Hana obeys, Widowmaker leans fully on her, blocking any chance for her to see Angela, and slowly enters her.

Widowmaker holds Hana's gaze as she goes rigid, whimpering. Hana bites her lip to muffle them, taking a handful of her shirt.

And when Widowmaker rocks her hips— her thrusts hard enough for the table to creak under them and for her knot to fully swell, tears pool in Hana's eyes. A faithful image of her lust's collision with her self-consciousness.

Widowmaker feels sorry for her. If she still had her Alpha scent, things would have been much easier for Hana.

Then suddenly she remembers moments ago when Hana bit her arm to prevent any sound she would have made from reaching Angela.

 _She was protecting her friend,_ Widowmaker realizes.

And she finds it admirable that her hips buck harshly, lust completely clouding her senses for a moment.

  
Hana cries out loud, her walls tightening hard around Widowmaker, and that's it.

The thing that makes Widowmaker needs to knot her, claim her, right now.

Hana covers her mouth with her hands as Widowmaker's pace turns rough. Her eyes are wide and shimmering with worry.

Widowmaker is close, but she thinks Hana won't be able to hold her moans much longer and she wants to protect her form the guilt.

She removes Hana's hands, and offers her hand instead as her thrusts falter and become unsteady, desperate.

"It's okay," she whispers. "Take it."

Hana bites her hand eagerly, her wet, warm walls finally yielding to let Widowmaker's knot pop inside.

Widowmaker smiles as Hana groans around her hand almost immediately, back arches and body tenses.

 

Widowmaker feels settled, finally.

  
The sharpness of her bite registers slowly, faintly. It's a poke where the orgasm that hits her is a massive wave that cleanses her from everything Talon have done and replaces them with relief and sheer pleasure. Her heart pounds now, heat endless and sensations overwhelming.

Widowmaker lets her head droop, her thrusts turn rigorous and short, moans lump in her throat as her come spill and spill, and fills the Omega's pussy.

  
And then she finds the clarity to glance at Hana. She's glowing with blush and sweat and satisfaction, stuck in rapture — her saliva trails from the corners of her mouth, and tears slowly escape her eyes.

Widowmaker clenches her jaw; the sight is too beautiful and fulfilling to be quiet about it, but she does keep quiet, and Hana does endure the pain of trapping her moans, of choking on them as she rides her high to its fullest.

Widowmaker leans again, and this time brushes her lips on Hana's cheek and temple, _hoping_... that the Omega will find reassurance to enjoy her release.

  
When Hana finally comes to be, she's shaking still, her walls spasm repeatedly. The tension in her jaw finally relent, and Widowmaker's hand is released.

Widowmaker notes that the Omega is close to dozing off, a rested smile sneaking to her lips.

It gets Widowmaker to cradle the side of Hana's face, to sigh deeply when Hana purrs absentmindedly, leaning into her touch.

Widowmaker strokes her cheek with her thumb without pondering over the motion, rocking her hips gently. She doesn't get much friction, but just being tied with Hana like that feels enough.

 

 

  
The flight home is tiring, mainly because Widowmaker's wound needs more treatment and she refuses to go to Angela, and because her minds fixates on things that it should not fixate on. Like the way her knot was perfectly snug within Hana's pussy and how that made her sensitive. Or like how Hana's scent changed subtly because of her come, and how that scent lulled her into staying as close to the Omega as possible, or how Hana kept her pulling at her shirt and clenching around her knot.

Or how she finally felt the sorrows and all that she had ever toward Angela.

 

She has been through that before, with Sombra. Right after she knotted her for the first time and the Omega pried all the things Widowmaker had thought no longer exist with her sweet mouth and cleverly spoken words, and her comforting, lovely scent.

One of those things being the love she had for Angela that Talon buried under their creation. Under Widowmaker.

Widowmaker has been stormed by it then, and she's stormed by it again now while Hana's pheromones are still clouding her mind, while Hana is being thoroughly taken care of by the pink-haired Alpha in the med-bay. (The only solace Widowmaker gets, and she doesn't need any, is the fact that Hana managed to hold on from clinging to either of the Alphas after Widowmaker fucked her. She only caved in once they were on the plane and heading home.)

_It's there, that love. What if feeling it only during mating would truly be enough?_

It's a good thought, but then the cloud resolves into serene, _natural_ vigilance, and Widowmaker will only remembers wondering if it would be enough or not.


End file.
